


Taking Care of Business

by jasmasson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-01
Updated: 2007-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:49:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmasson/pseuds/jasmasson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean takes care of Sam</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care of Business

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s notes** : For [](http://ficwriterjet.livejournal.com/profile)[**ficwriterjet**](http://ficwriterjet.livejournal.com/) ’s [supernatural spanking prompt challenge](http://ficwriterjet.livejournal.com/6686.html). My prompt was ‘jealousy’.  
>  **Beta** : Thanks to the delicious [](http://candygramme.livejournal.com/profile)[**candygramme**](http://candygramme.livejournal.com/).  
> 

***

They’re out in the open where anyone can see them, and Sam’s shivering as he’s bent over the car. The road they’re parked on is empty – it’s not exactly Broadway – but someone _could_ come by, and that only makes it better.

Sam’s shoulders are hunched over, and Dean can see the lines of tension in them; all that power contained, _restrained_ , for him in the bunched up muscles beneath the thin, soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Dean wants to run a hand down Sam’s back, soothe the trembling, but he doesn’t. _Because that’s not what Sam wants._

When Dean stopped the car, he’d pulled an unresisting Sam out silently and spun him round, pushing him over the hood. Dean had pulled Sam’s jeans down his thighs, and he wasn’t wearing underwear to begin with, so his ass is bare, just waiting there for Dean.

“Gonna warm you up before I fuck you,” Dean says, running a hand over Sam’s ass. He pushes Sam’s thighs further apart. Sam’s still slick and swollen from this morning, and Dean can still see traces of his come from where he fucked Sam up against the motel door, before just pulling his jeans up and pushing him out the door to start their day’s journey.

Never fails to get him instantly hard to see Sam wearing his come. His scent.

He pushes two fingers in without preamble, and Sam groans, clenching _hard_ around him.

“You don’t need too much warming up, do you?” Dean asks. “You’re ready now.”

And that’s true. Sam’s loose-limbed already – writhing on his fingers and hot as hell – and Dean feels a sweet surge of triumph, because. Yes.

Dean had spanked Sam last night; counting out the number of times Sam had let that guy at the bar touch him earlier that evening on his bare ass. They’d just been casual touches – flirtatious pats on the jeans, on the small of his back – but Dean had been counting, and so had Sam; eyes sliding over to Dean, secret smile deliberately designed to get under Dean’s skin.

There are no marks now, though, because it was just a hand spanking last night, and Dean’s looking forward to marking up Sam’s sweet, pale ass again.

“Yeah, you’re ready now,” he says as Sam makes a whining noise when he pulls his fingers free. “But I’m not. And I’ll fuck you when _I’m_ good and ready. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Dean pulls back his hand and cracks it against Sam’s ass. Sam jerks, and Dean watches his hand print bloom red over the smooth, white flesh.

Dean rubs his hand over the marks, “Yeah, this ass is mine. Not his. Not fucking yours. Mine.”

Sam makes a whining noise, but it’s certainly not a denial.

Dean cracks his hand over Sam’s ass again and again, feeling the heat build. Sam’s twisting under his hand – his sweet, hot ass dancing under the spanking. Sam’s hips can’t seem to decide whether they want to get away from or push back into Dean’s hand, but either way it makes for a pretty sight.

Dean pulls Sam’s jeans down further. Down to his ankles, to expose his thighs. At times when it’s like this between them, and if they’re not traveling or on a job, Dean might tie Sam’s legs down and spank his inner thighs hard, with a paddle or a belt, so he has to keep them spread. Keep his thighs parted giving Dean sweet, easy access for days.

But not when they’re traveling. That would be too uncomfortable, and defeat Dean’s purpose.

So he just spanks down the backs of Sam’s thighs with his hands, warming the skin, thinking about how sweetly hot they’ll feel when Dean presses up against them. He gets the insides a few times, though, and Sam makes a squeak you wouldn’t think a man his size could make when that tender flesh is spanked.

Sam’s moaning Dean’s name, and, damn, but that feels good. Sam’s hips are jerking forward, but there’s nothing there for him to rub himself against – certainly not the hood of Dean’s baby – and so he’s just thrusting into empty air.

Dean’s not hurting him really, he knows that, but the skin is hot and tender under his hands as he rubs up Sam’s thighs to squeeze his cheeks. Sam’s groan is so low Dean can barely even hear it.

“You feel so good, Sammy,” he says. “So hot. Gonna fuck you now. You want that, Sammy? You want your big brother to fuck your hot, spanked ass?”

“Dean,” Sam groans, pushing back into Dean’s hands. “Dean, c’mon.”

Dean takes that as a yes.

He yanks his jeans open and presses up against Sam, letting the rough denim rub up against Sam’s sore ass. Sam rubs against him, and Dean says, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m going to fuck you so good, Sammy. Take such good care of you.”

Sam likes it rougher than Dean really likes to give when he’s like this – likes Dean to just pull his jeans down and fuck him hard – and if he was given a vote, he’d say the slick from earlier was enough, and to just _fuck him already_ , but, happily, Sam’s in no condition to take it to committee, so Dean squirts some lube from the tube he had in his pocket onto his fingers and slicks himself up quickly.

He keeps his jeans up around his hips (thank God for button fly jeans) because he knows Sam likes to feel it – feel Dean clothed against his nakedness.

He pushes in, slow but relentless, and Sam’s loose and relaxed, but so fucking tight around him it still takes Dean’s breath away that he gets to do this. That Sam wants this, _needs_ this, so badly.

He doesn’t give either of them a chance to catch their breath and fucks Sam hard and fast. Sometimes he’ll fuck Sam until he comes hard in Sam’s sweet ass and then pull up his jeans and make him sit in the car still hard and aching, Dean’s come in his ass, cock peeking out of his fly for Dean to play with as he drives, until the next time Dean calls a pit stop. Not this time though.

He fucks up deliberately to Sam’s prostate, feeling Sam clench around him and keen in his throat as he comes all over himself. Dean closes his eyes and counts to ten and holds on through Sam’s orgasm. He opens his eyes to see Sam’s back, relaxed now, and his head hanging down as he pants for breath.

Dean takes the opportunity to rub a sneaky hand over Sam’s sweaty back.

“Relax Sammy,” he says, voice hoarse and low. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna feel it for miles. Nothing for you to do but take it. Just take it while I fuck you good and hard.”

He’s as good as his word, fucking Sam smooth and deep for as long as he can, feeling Sam shivering in hot pleasure beneath him, until he can’t take it any more and comes in Sam’s tight, hot ass.

***

He pulls out and pulls Sam up. Sam staggers a bit, exhausted, and Dean does his jeans up for him, not cleaning the come from between Sam’s cheeks or his front, where he’s come all over his t-shirt. He’s come over the car, too, and Dean _does_ clean that up, pushing Sam forward so he can clean her with Sam’s t-shirt. He doesn’t mind too much, really. He figures if his baby was alive she’d be as kinky as his brother, and it’s all in a good cause, but still. He’d much rather that Sam was come-stained than her.

He pushes Sam gently into the seat, and Sam winces slightly as he sits down. Dean smirks and heads for the driver’s seat. Sam’s sprawled out in the passenger seat and despite his sore ass, and the fact it’s barely 11am, his eyes are already closing and his breath evening out.

Dean grins in triumph and puts the music on softly. Sam’ll sleep now, until Dean wakes him for lunch, and then he’ll docilely eat whatever Dean puts in front of him without any argument, and God knows he fucking needs it, because he’s not been eating for days.

He’s not been sleeping, either, but Dean listens with smug satisfaction to the loud breathing that will soon turn into snores.

Dean’s not stupid, and he’s sure the hell not stupid when it comes to Sam, and this has been coming on for a good week. Sam’s been eating less and sleeping less, and waking Dean up in the middle of the night tapping on the keyboard; his face drawn and ghastly in the laptop’s unhealthy light.

Dean’s been wanting to make it better, to give Sam the release he’s needed, to take some of the weight of responsibility off Sam’s shoulders, but he’s had to wait until Sam gives him the signal, and the nerdy flirting with the witness yesterday had been it – Sam’s naturally monogamous and wouldn’t notice someone flirting with him if they leapt naked into his lap, so the flirting has a point. Always has a point. To make Dean jealous. To provoke Dean into action, and to take all responsibility away from Sam in the way they’d learnt helped Sam so much after Stanford, when Jessica’s death had weighed too heavily on him.

But Sam doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t think he can just ask for this, and Dean hasn’t quite worked out how to drop, “ _so, Sammy, you want your ass beaten?_ ” into casual conversation. But Dean would give him anything he wants, and it’s probably all for the best that Sam still doesn’t know that, despite all the fucking evidence. So Dean takes his cue, and acts all jealous as required, but he’s not. Dean’s not jealous of _Matt_ from last night. Matt’s no threat. Dean’s jealous of the girl of the future – the one that will finally take Sam away from him – the one person that Dean’s more scared of than the Crossroads Demon elusive master. Dean believes Sam will save him, but he doesn’t believe Sam will stay with him. But Dean can be here for him now. When Sam’s fear and guilt over Dean’s fate are just pressing too hard on him, and he needs some help to take the weight of it all.

After lunch Dean will turn Sam over and spank him ‘til he begs, and then fuck him ‘til he comes if he thinks Sam will sleep some more. If he doesn’t think Sam will get any more sleep, he’ll still spank him until he’s begging, then make him suck him off. Then he’ll make him sit in the car with a swollen mouth, sore ass and aching cock and tease him for the rest of the drive so he’s got other things to think about than fate and the future.

Dean’s got one day, maybe two, when Sammy will take this – _needs_ this – and he’ll damn well make the most of it. Sam’ll come out of this well rested, well fed and well fucked.

Dean will always take care of Sam. For just as long as he’ll let him.

***

If you're moved to comment - and if you are you have my eternal gratitude - please feel free to comment here or on [this fic at livejournal where it was originally posted ](http://jasmasson.livejournal.com/63389.html) as you prefer.


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